


The Heels, the Island and the Mangoes

by Azaraethe



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:41:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21938392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azaraethe/pseuds/Azaraethe
Summary: Dedicated to Pandamochi @TKRB Discord for giving me such a fun thing to write about.Gran asks Percival to teach him how to dance for an upcoming party at Albion Citadel hosted by Vira. The Grandcypher meets with flight difficulties, leading to Percival and Gran stranded on a strange island together. What must the two do in order to find their way back to their friends? A fun feel-good story for Christmas!
Relationships: Gran/Percival (Granblue Fantasy)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22





	1. His Heels

“Percival.” 

The tall red-haired man turned from where he was, towards the sound of the voice calling for him. 

“Teach me how to dance.”

Percival’s eyebrows lifted barely at Gran, who was standing in front of him, and there was a very determined look upon the captain's face. 

“Why do you want to learn how to dance?” The red-haired man frowned, his brow knotting together and slowly, his arms folded on his chest, staring suspiciously at this captain of his. “Are we holding parties on the Grandcypher now, danchou?”

Gran frowned in return, and next, he dug his hand into his side pocket, bringing out a pale cream-white envelope. Clumsily, he opened it and pulled out an invitation card.

“You’re right about a party, Percival, but not on the Grandcypher.”

The captain held out the card to Percival and fidgeted on his feet, scraping his boots over the ship’s deck.

“Vira-san has invited us again to Albion Citadel for a party. And Katalina-san agreed to go.” Gran looked slightly woeful as he held the invitation card in his hands. “So… I want to learn how to dance…since at the last party, and I didn’t do anything else.”

Well, he ran away at the last party, along with Lyria, although he did manage to have a slice of cake and a quick swig of the fruit punch, which was rather lovely.

Percival arched an eyebrow at Gran as he turned the invitation card in his hand. The card and its contents looked genuine enough, with Vira’s steady yet girlish signature on the bottom of the card. He passed the invite back to the captain and looked at Gran in an appraising manner. 

“You can’t dance in those.” 

Percival’s finger crooked and pointed at the shabby, grime-stained boots Gran wore. “Nor that.” The finger trailed upwards and jabbed in the air towards the captain’s worn blue tunic, which was rather slovenly worn on his thin body. 

The edges of Gran’s mouth drooped down. 

“Percival…” 

“What?” Percival replied immediately, his face darkening, and he took a step back, his arms tightly crossing across his chest.

“Why don’t you teach me a few simple steps so I can practice by myself.” 

Gran approached Percival with a pleading look in his eyes.

“Wait. Stop! Don’t look at me like that.”

The red-haired man lowered his head and exhaled in exasperation, letting out a low hmmph.

“Fine! I’ll teach you.” Percival pinched the middle of his forehead and groaned. 

“Let’s do it now!” Gran’s sulk fled from his features to be replaced by a wide grin. He reached up and pulled Percival’s hands, grabbing them tightly. 

“Now?” Percival’s eyes widened alarmingly, yet he patiently allowed the captain to drag him to the middle of the Grandcypher. A quick look around showed that there seemed to be no one on deck except Rackam half a deck away who seemed to be semi-dozing at the wheel of the ship.

Still holding onto Percival’s hands, Gran looked bemusedly at Percival’s beautifully crafted leather boots with polished heels and his dirty boots.

“What are you looking at?” Percival snapped sharply as he tried to yank his hands away from Gran’s grip. However, the captain had already linked his fingers into Percival’s, locking the redhaired man in a death’s grip. 

“Nothing!” Gran lifted his head and swung Percival’s arms slightly up and down, somewhat enjoying the annoyed look on Percival’s face. “Nothing at all.”

The brown-haired youth laughed again, his eyes lowering to look at Percival’s heels once more before his chin lifted, and his lips parted in a cheerful request.

“Shall we dance?”

He found himself tolerating Gran’s clumsy side-turns and twirls, but the awkward dancing thoroughly annoyed him.

Percival had to bite his tongue and not chastise his captain for stepping on his toes or nearly twisting his arm off in a frivolous turn.

“Stop.”

“But Percival, I can still dance…” 

Percival shook his head vehemently, his hands shaking in absolute frustration. 

“I would like a break, danchou…” The redhaired man released Gran’s hands, and he bent to rub a bruise below his ribs where Gran had gracelessly elbowed him. When the latter slipped on a box step and fumbled with his balance, the two ended up on a heap on the Grandcypher’s deck, and Percival could swear that Rackam woke up that instance to see him tangled in an embarrassing mess of arms and legs with the captain.

He thought too he saw Rackam secretly laugh and look away, and the thought of being seen in an undignified manner irked Percival more. That smarmy helmsman never had a good thing or two to say about royalty anyway. Percival’s eyes narrowed, seeing Katalina and Lyria, along with Vyrn, appear on the ship’s deck, laughing and engaged in an exciting conversation.

Right now will be an excellent opportunity to get rid of Gran for a while.

“Danchou, why don’t you go join Katalina, Lyria, and that lizard?” Percival stood upright, setting his back very straight, attempting to tidy his garments and adjusting his shirt’s sleeves. He lifted his arm, pointing to the pair who was coming near to them.

“But, I want to learn more steps, Percival.”

Percival’s hand raised to slap his forehead fretfully a few times slowly. 

“Fine, fine!” He grumbled, his features nettled and pinched, and hating himself for the next promise he was going to make.

“You’ll need new shoes, danchou. I have already told you you cannot dance in these.” Percival pointed rigidly at Gran’s inelegant footwear.

“These are the only boots I have…” Gran muttered, looking sorrowfully perplexed. He bent, hand pulling to tug at the laces of one of his boots. “I don’t have any fancy shoes like the ones you’re wearing, Percival.”

“I’ll buy you some then!” Percival threw up his arms in utter aggravation, and a gruff voice, he continued. “Tell the helmsman to set a course for Wales, and I’ll bring you to my shoe-maker, and you can get a fancy pair of shoes.”

“A pair of fancy shoes?” Gran blinked, lifting his head and staring in anticipation at Percival. "Just for me?"

“My vassals deserve the best,” Percival replied with hinted pride, smiling in spite of himself, back at Gran.

“Are we going to Wales?” A high and girlish voice piped up from behind Gran. 

Katalina lifted an eyebrow at the captain as she walked to stand beside Lyria. “We are going to Wales?”

“Yes, we are going to Wales.” Gran grinned, setting his hands on his hips. “Percival is going to buy some new shoes for all of us.”

“Thank you, Percival-san!” Lyria lifted her hands in the air, beaming broadly. “I’m so happy you take such good care of us, your vassals!”

“I am not sure what I might do with new shoes, but I suppose a new pair of high heels might go well with the dress Vira has prepared for me…” Katalina tilted her head thoughtfully, tapping a finger on her cheek.

“New shoes!” Vyrn yelled excitedly as well, throwing his tiny claws up in the air. “Hehe! You sure are generous, Sir Burnsalot.”

Percival balked, his face turning pale. “Wait, I said the only danchou is getting shoes, not the whole crew!”

He frowned at the cavorting tiny dragon.

“Why do you even need shoes, you’re a lizard!”

Gran stopped grinning and looked fixedly at a glowering Percival.

“You’re not buying new shoes for all of us?” He turned to look disappointedly at Lyria, and the blue-haired girl’s bright smile collapsed into a crestfallen one.

Percival looked back in stony silence, and his eyebrows knotted once more, “Fine, all my vassals get new shoes. It doesn’t matter; I can buy out the whole store if I wanted.”

Percival barely calmed himself down after his rather loud announcement. He pinched his forehead again as he watched his captain and Lyria buzz at each other about new shoes.

Why did he always end up giving in to the captain, he wondered, mystified at his choices.


	2. The Mangoes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katalina describes mangoes she ate during her school-days, to Gran and Lyria.

Mangoes?” 

Both Gran and Lyria looked intriguingly at Katalina as she recounted a story of her student days in Albion Citadel.

“Yes, mangoes. That was what Vira called them.” Katalina seemed visibly delighted as she started to describe in detail, the foods she ate at one of the banquets hosted in Albion Citadel for several foreign dignitaries. But, one item that left a deep impression in her mind were these mangoes she was attempting to explain to the enthralled group before her.

“How do they look like, Katalina-san?” Lyria clenched her hands into fists, eager to find out more about this food that Katalina spoke of. 

“I never saw the actual fruit, but we were served little cubes of it in sweet milk and shaved ice,” Katalina recalled, folding her arms on her chest in thought. “Since the fruit flesh is yellow, I suppose the fruit itself would look yellow.”

“I would love to try it one day. I’ve never eaten a fruit that tastes like caramel and melts like cotton candy in my mouth!” The smallish girl sounded wistful as she tugged a lock of her hair and looked up at the clouds drifting past the huge balloon floats of the Grandcypher.

“But I have never seen it sold in any of the markets we visited.” Gran pondered, following Lyria’s gaze upwards. 

“It is very rare.” Katalina chuckled. “Vira said the fruits grew only on a special island surrounded by freshwater. They are very recognizable.”

She proceeded to describe the bulbous nature of the fruit along with its skin color.

“How mysterious!” Lyria’s eyes twinkled, and she clapped her hands together, smiling at Gran, “It sounds like we must find out more about this.”

Gran nodded in agreement and lifted his hand to shield his eyes against the early afternoon light. The Grandcypher was en-route to Wales, and the shapes of the floating islands peeking amidst the white clouds were all quite familiar to him. He watched the clouds morph, peak, and glide past him, and he was caught up in his thoughts once more. 

“Do you want some lunch, Gran?” Katalina tapped the captain on his shoulder as she took Lyria’s hand. He glanced at her; his hands clamped tight on the rail still.

“I want to look at the sky a bit more.” The youth smiled tightly and raised a finger, pointing outwards. “But, Katalina-san, you and Lyria should eat. I think we are still quite far away from Wales.”

He returned to watching the clouds, a pensive look etching on his brow. Lyria urged forward on her feet, about to say something when Katalina touched the girl’s shoulder, shaking her head once. 

_ Let him be. _

Her lips move, mouthing the words silently, and she felt Lyria’s fingers twist tightly into her hand. 

“We will see you later, Gran.” Lyria piped up, trying to sound cheerful and turned to leave, tugging Katalina along. The last Gran heard of the two’s chatter was how they should try to get to lunch as fast as they could before Vyrn ate up everything.

Gran pulled himself forward, resting his elbows on the rail and letting the cold breeze hit his cheeks. They seemed to be at a higher altitude than he remembered. Rackam usually did not fly the Grandcypher at this height. It was something to do with lift or weight, or was it about the velocity? Gran could not recall, and he curled his fingers into fists and rubbed his cheeks.

He scrubbed his cheekbones for a bit when his left hand was pried away from his face and cradled in a larger hand, warming it. 

“You shouldn’t be standing next to the rails without a coat.” 

Percival grasped the youth’s left hand firmly, letting his warmth heat up Gran’s cold skin. The redhaired man eyed the captain once, a bothered look on his face, and proceeded to take Gran’s other hand, cupping both of the youth’s hands into his own. 

“If you fell sick before we get to Wales, then the trip would be for nothing.” 

“Eh.”

Gran stared up, about to protest when a fiery stare from Percival completely silenced him. Subdued by that look, the youth allowed his hands to be held, fearing perhaps another word might lead to the hotheaded knight broiling his skin instead.

Before Percival could continue reprimanding Gran, the Grandcypher lurched back and sank a few notches, smashing both of them back against the railing. The airship dipped again, her bow diving through another clump of clouds. White wisps streamed past Gran’s eyes. Percival’s hands were still tight on his, and the youth held on, tense and fearful. 

“What is that helmsman doing?” Percival roared. He felt the airship incline vertically, and the scream of the wind soon drowned his voice. The airship keeled, and with his attention distracted the moment he tried to look for any signs of Rackam, his grip around Gran’s hands loosened.

The Grandcypher swung up and pitched forward; her mooring ropes shaken loose, the wings attached to her hull expanded tautly in an attempt to break her wild descent.

A stream of lightning, bright and edged with iridescent violet and gold splattered around the Grandcypher, crackling and booming.

The airship careened and tilted uncontrollably to its side, jolting to a violent stop.

“Percival!”

A yell startled him, a yell that grew faint as it screamed his name again in frightened desperation.

He turned, left, right, left again - only to see a pair of hands frantically scrabbling to grab hold of the rail before they lost their grip.

“Danchou!”

Percival flung himself forward, attempting to catch hold of Gran’s flailing hand. 

Their fingers brushed, his hand slipped and clutched wind and air.

Gran’s pale, wide-eyed face sank below a sea of clouds.

Without hesitation, Percival tightened the buckle of his sword around his waist, pulled himself up the rail, and leaped off the Grandcypher.


	3. The Island

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Percival and Gran find themselves stranded on a mysterious island.

Wet.

It was wet.

Waves licked the side of Gran’s face, rousing him awake.

He felt a sinking softness under him as he laid there, one eye closed, one eye opened to a bright sun threatening to sear his sight. Gran moved his hands, and his fingers slowly, checking if they were mobile and his fingers grabbed bits of wet sand. Water had soaked through his tunic and pants, and there was even more sand in his boot.

His boot. Where was the other one? His bare toes wiggled against water-logged sand. 

Gran remembered being thrown off the Grandcypher, and it was quite a miracle that every part of his body was still intact. Gran pushed himself up, moving away from the water and sat down slowly on the sandy shore. He brought his hand to his mouth, gingerly tasting the droplets on his fingers. The youth blinked once, and he sat up, scooping a bit more of the water and drinking more than a mouthful.

It was not salty.

At least he would not die of thirst since he was stranded in this strange place.

He also remembered that paralyzing look of absolute horror on Percival’s face.

Gran’s gut twisted in dread. He should try to find a way to contact the Grandcypher. The youth stood up shakily, attempting to balance himself on the sand. He dragged his remaining boot off, emptying water, shells, and sand from the inside. After a while, he found his other boot floating a distance away, the waves rolling over it. So absorbed was he in attempting to clean his boots, he failed to notice a tall shadow fall over him.

When he turned around in fright, he was met with a stare so familiarly fiery.

“Percival?”

The youth dropped his boots and threw himself at the tall redhaired man, his gritty fingers grasping the man’s soaked shirt sleeves. 

“Why are you here?”

Gran squeezed Percival’s arms so tightly until he could feel the hardness of the man’s bones. 

“You fool…”

That uttered, Percival pulled Gran towards him, embracing the youth tightly. 

“Percival?”

Satisfied that after a few checks and touches that the captain did not suffer any severe injury, Percival pushed Gran away, still scowling, but his left hand still clutched to Gran’s damp and sand-covered fingers. 

“Do you know where we are?” Gran asked apprehensively, pulling his wet boots on with one hand clumsily. He did not try to pull his other hand away, and meekly allowed the redhaired knight to grip his fingers.

As much as Percival did not want to provide that answer, he let out a clipped tch and shook his head.

“No.” He replied, his voice low and heavy.

“Oh…”

“Come, we should get away from the water.” He tugged at Gran’s hand and urged him further up the shore. There were rows and rows of trees ahead, crowned with deep-green leaves and clusters of bright yellow fruit, bulbous on one end and tapered to the other, hanging from their branches. Gran wiped bits of sand from the side of his eyes, peering in all directions, staring at the dark verdant forest and its trees bearing golden fruits spread along the upper shore as far as the eye could see.

There was no break in the foliage, nor was there a natural entry-point. 

The two moved cautiously further inland, approaching the first line of trees. A cloying sweet scent assailed them as they walked closer to the trees, and now that Gran could see the fruits up close, they appeared as if they were covered with a velvety skin, blushed with orange and red and patches of sticky dried sap. There were some light green fruits as well, higher up in the trees, gathered at their crowns. Despite his curiosity, Gran was not able to go near the trees nor touch the fruits since Percival had practically chained his hand around the youth’s wrist. Wrinkling up his nose, Gran sniffed the air carefully. The scent was not offensive strangely; in fact, it did smell rather appetizing.

“The forests might not be safe.” Percival decided, drawing out his sword. The Lord of Flames did look a little less majestic, his red hair bedraggled and hanging in lank limp tangles about his handsome face. His shirt, soaked and stained, lost a few buttons.

“I’ll get some wood. You stay here.” He strode towards the trees, turning the blade of his longsword outwards.

“Wait!”

“What now?” Percival halted, glancing over his shoulder at Gran, his tone impatient. 

“You should let me go first…” The captain lifted his left hand and waved his arm to and fro, gently swaying Percival’s hand along with it.

He scowled once more and let go. Gran grinned under his breath, catching sight of Percival’s face and sighed, “I’m alright, Percival. We should find some food as well.”

Gran stared at the trees around them. They were short for trees with thick boughs dense with leaves and fruit. The sweetish scent grew even heavier as they ventured further in. 

“I wonder what trees are these… I’ve never seen them ever on any of the islands…” The youth left Percival’s side, putting out his hand to touch one of the lower branches. 

“No!” 

Gran’s wayward hand was immediately pushed aside by Percival, and he stepped in front of the youth, shaking his head. “Don’t touch anything around here. We don’t know if these trees are poisonous.”

Percival growled under his breath, and he raised his sword towards the branch. Using the sword-tip, he moved the leaves aside and tapped on the surface a few times before lifting his sword, pulling with it sticky strands of an amber substance. 

“What strange trees,” Gran muttered, turning his head the other way to look at another. Its trunk had cracked, and a dark orange-red liquid was oozing out of its gray-brown bark. 

“Are they bleeding?”

“No, it appears to be a sap of some kind,” Percival observed the stains on his sword and did nothing to it, however. Burning sap off his sword in the middle of a strange forest would be the most stupid thing to do right now. 

“We should not stay here further; let us go back to the beach.”

“But firewood?” 

The redhaired man pointed towards the direction they came from, and insistently pushed Gran’s shoulder to turn and walk back to the shore.

“We can’t use these trees,” Percival mumbled flatly and held his sword at length so it will not come into contact with himself or Gran.

“But what about a fire? Or food?” The youth asked as he started to walk. Gran was very tempted to cut a cluster of the golden fruits from the tree, and his hand lingered on the hilt of his sword. He paused in his steps, looking over his shoulder at Percival, who was following closely behind. Something about the shape of the fruits bothered him.

“I don’t see any monsters or animals we can catch….”

“We’ll make a fire inside a sandpit at the beach.” Percival made a soft clicking sound with this tongue as he scrutinized the trees once more. There was nothing but green and gold clusters of the bulbous fruit. He was not even sure if there was fish in the waters surrounding this strange land. The sap spread across his sword looked suspicious as well, and he thought it would be unwise even to touch it with bare hands. 

How would they collect the fruit if every part of the tree leaked sap the moment the bark or branches were cut or broken? 

Percival looked at himself for a moment and at Gran, who lifted an eyebrow at him. Then, the man stabbed his sword into the ground and proceeded to take off his shirt, unbuttoning whatever was left of the buttons. The garment was laid flat on the ground below one tree, and he took up his sword again, swinging the blade through the stems of some clusters. He selected only those that were on the lowest branches and those that looked more orange than yellow.

“I hope these are edible...” Gran muttered as he squatted down next to the fruits piled up on Percival’s shirt, completely nonplussed about the half-naked man who was cutting down more fruit. The same reddish sap had started oozing from the stems, dripping onto the fabric of the spread shirt. 

Percival paused, his eyes shifting to check the number of fruits he had collected before proceeding to swipe the flat side of his blade on a nearby tree’s trunk. He would burn off the sap later at the beach by himself, away from Gran.

“Oy, danchou, let’s go.” He said sharply, picking up the edges of his shirt to gather into a makeshift sack, and made sure that he did not touch any of the sap stains. They were very much aware that dusk would soon come fast, and the two hurried out of the forest towards the shore.


	4. The Leopard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Percival and Gran meet with a threat they did not anticipate.

They were mangoes, those fruits. 

Gran was terribly excited, and he ate at least four of them after they were roasted in a sandpit fire started by Percival. The first batch was burnt to a soggy paste and could not be eaten. Yet, Gran did attempt to swipe a taste and remarked that it did resemble a marmalade of some sort. He exclaimed it was good, despite that Percival made everything charred and lumpy.

“You’re just eating it because you’re hungry,” Percival muttered. He looked at his shirt, stained with sap and dirt, and decided it was beyond saving. He would not wear that stained shirt again over his body. After all, the temperature on the island seemed to be quite warm, even when dusk had fallen. Their surroundings were plunged into semi-darkness except for the glow of the sandpit fire, the gleam of a pale white moon, and the weak twinkle of light from the stars scattered overhead. 

Gran did laugh at Percival’s comment, and as he licked fruit juice from a finger, he chuckled, “I’m eating it because you’re trying your best, Percival.”

The youth smiled a little and got up, finding his way to the edge of the water, crouching down to wash his sticky hands. “How are we going to find the Grandcypher, Percival?”

He heard an audible snort coming from behind him and a rustle as the man got up from the sand. 

“I would expect that it would be easier for them to find us, not the other way around.”

Gran thought for a moment, realizing Percival was right. He got up, shaking water droplets from his hands and decided to affirm the knight’s comment.

“I think you are…”

“Danchou.”

The man was standing in a defensive posture, his longsword drawn and flames flickering down the double edges of the blade. 

“Stay behind me...” He snarled under his breath, both hands now firmly on the hilt of his weapon. Gran inched forward, ignoring Percival’s order, his hand moving to pull out his shortsword. 

“What’s going on?” The youth hissed, unable to see anything beyond the circle of the sandpit fire. 

“A monster.” The knight replied, his voice tightening. He shifted, inching back to gain ground in case he needed to sprint forth. A beast eased its way agilely out from the trees, its shape indiscernible in the shadows. Languidly, it made its way towards the sandpit fire, the light faintly bouncing off its metallic body and gleaming silver-brown horns on its head. 

Gran held his breath as the monster nosed the reminder of their dinner around the sandpit fire before it went very still. 

The creature’s nose lifted, twitching, smelling something in the air. Its feline ears twitched as well. 

Percival sent a surge of fire down his longsword. Flames curled up, swirling and flickering brightly, immediately catching the attention of the leopard-like beast. He narrowed his eyes, his intent determined and clear.

Percival charged forward, his flames fanning in a widening circle around him. 

The monster, sensing aggression, growled threateningly. Lowering its horned and armored head, it rushed towards its attacker.

The fight was short-lived. Percival stood, panting, strange bruises on his bare chest, and as well as on his face though he had successfully fended off every single attack from the leopard’s giant claws and tail. The monster did attempt to gore him but lost one of its horns in doing so. Gran had too, tried to swing a few hits at the beast and suffered as well, bruises on his arms and face.   
  
It was a bewildering fight, but the beast gave up first and backed away, tail between its blackened legs. It cried and howled as if it was spooked and rushed into the safety of the dark forests.

Percival caught his breath finally. He extinguished the flames on his blade as well as that of the sandpit fire. The blade was slid back to his belt, and he tightened the buckles securing it.

“We need to get off this island now.” He declared, trying to sound as calm as he could as he grabbed Gran’s hand, pulling him into a brisk walk and then an intense run along the shoreline.


	5. The Bunny, The Raft and the AK4A

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Percival and Gran find themselves in a predicament.

Gran coughed, falling on his bottom as he gasped tiredly from the exertion. He fell face flat in the sand, letting water lap over his face to cool his flushed cheeks. 

“I can’t run anymore, Percival.”

He flipped onto his back, trying to catch his breath. 

“How are we even getting off this island? We will end up running in circles.”

“We will go across the waters.”

Gran sat up, wiping his wet face with his palm. He was quite close to thinking perhaps, Percival had gone mad.

“We have no boat!” 

“There’s a raft a bit further up.” Percival, too, was trying to calm his breathing down, and he straightened, lifting an arm to point at the outline of a rock crop in the moonlight. “I found it when I landed there…”

Gran stared at Percival, his mouth agape.

“A raft?” He pushed himself up from the sand, brushing the grit off his pants. “Who would have left a raft here?”

Percival frowned deeply, trying to shake hair out of his eyes as he turned to the direction where he pointed. “It should be still there; we just need to get it and leave this island.”

In his heart, Gran knew he should stop questioning and trust Percival. Yet, the turn of events was starting to be quite puzzling, and it confounded his mind. Percival had turned to leave, this time he did not run, but his strides were large and fast, leaving Gran to half-walk, half-jog to keep up.

The raft was right there, as Percival had said. The two of them dragged the raft away from the outcrop it perched upon. A small creature bounded out from beneath the raft the moment they moved it away, its large white ears flattening in fright at being exposed.

The bunny hopped over the rocks and onto the shore, its large feet leaving tracks in the sand as it fled into the forests.

Gran sighed loudly. He did not know what to make out of the whole situation anymore.

They pushed the raft onto the water, and Gran clambered on as Percival held it steady. Using their swords as paddles, the two started to maneuver the raft towards the pink-tinged horizon slowly. It grew bright enough in a few and that Gran realized they were indeed a great distance away from the island.

As long as that leopard beast-monster, or whatever it was, did not know how to swim.

Gran paddled a few more to push the raft ahead, and oddly, it felt as if it was easier to paddle, and the raft was moving even faster. Something caught his eye, a small vortex of water eddying next to the raft’s edge. Gran stared at the other side of the raft. More eddies and swirls were building up along both sides of the raft, and before he knew it, he screamed Percival’s name as the raft plunged wildly forward on a rush of crashing waves towards a rising wall of mist and foam. Gran barely heard that shout of his name, as well as he held on for dear life, flattened on the raft and his fingers clutching to the raft’s splintered edges. 

He could scarcely see anything around him.

Froth and foam splashed onto Gran’s face every instance the raft bounced and leaped on the churning rapids. And he only knew Percival was close as the heavy weight of the man’s body pressed down on his back, and another pair of hands closed themselves on his knuckles, tightening both their grip on the raft. 

“Hold on!” Percival yelled, his voice hoarse as he tried hard to make himself heard over the thundering roar of the water.

The raft hurtled towards the approaching incline. 

Gran felt his stomach churn, and he squeezed his eyes shut. One moment he was grasping onto solid wood, the next, his hands flailed in the air. 

“I got you, danchou!”

Gran popped an eye open, barely as the wind and water slashed at his face. It was so misty that he could no longer differentiate, which was foam and what were clouds. A hand grabbed his thrashing arm, yanking his entire body close in a protective embrace.

There was another sound. 

It was not the boom of the water falling.

It was the vengeful growl of a beast.

The monstrous leopard they met last night, was swept up by the tumultuous water and tossed over the waterfall. The beast howled its frustration as it twisted and turned, attempting to find some balance in mid-air. 

It roared again, snapping its jaws away angrily as it sighted the two - that tall male with flames who burned its legs and the shorter, smaller one that was clinging onto him. Gran squeezed his eyes shut again. He wanted to throw up, and the sour fruit churned in his belly as the two of them continued to plummet.

The screams and cries of the monster were getting too close for comfort.

A shot rang out. A shot clear as clarion.

The monster howled its final breath.

“Gran!”

“Percival-san!”

Katalina and Lyria both shouted in unison as the bow of the Grandcypher broke through the thick mists around them. The airship veered to one side smoothly and dipped, speeding downwards, attempting to be faster than the two who were free-falling. The airship righted itself quickly, underneath Percival and Gran, catching both of them.

“I daresay that it was quite close, heh,” Eugen muttered, checking the magazine on his AK4A gun and peered over the railing of the airship as the monster he’d just shot dropped so far down, it was nothing but a speck against the mists. 

“You can say that again,” Rackam wheezed, trying to calm himself down after that tricky maneuver though he still kept his grip tight on the wheel. The Grandcypher was quickly backed away from the island’s waterfalls.

Gran laid flat on the deck of the airship, his chest heaving up and down rapidly as Lyria held his hand, her face scrunched up in worry.

Katalina had managed to help Percival sit up, her eyebrows coming together in an extremely severe frown as she saw the bruises on the knight’s face and chest, though she was not even going to ask why he was shirtless.

Suddenly, Gran sat up, and he clutched both of Lyria’s hands, remembering something significant.

“We found mangoes, Lyria. Mangoes. A whole forest of them!”

“Oy, danchou…” Percival scowled, and he waved Katalina away, indicating that he could stand on his own. “We are not going back there.”

“We are not?” Lyria clenched her hands, staring up at Percival with huge, round eyes.

“We are not?” Gran shot a look at Percival, the panic and fear of earlier vanishing from his face.

Percival slapped his forehead and groaned.

_Why do I always give in to you?_

He muttered to himself as the Grandcypher swung around from its original course and climbed upwards above the waterfalls, towards the island of mangoes.

**Author's Note:**

> The suggested keywords were :  
> Paa-san heels Gran Mango Island Raft Leopard Bunny AK4A


End file.
